


Three's always better than two, isn't that right, Merlin?

by bowlingalleycarpet



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Arthur Pendragon is a soft/horny drunk, Canon Era, Cuddling, Drunken Flirting, F/M, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Merlin tries to control himself, Multi, Oblivious Merlin (Merlin), POV Merlin (Merlin)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:26:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26306305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bowlingalleycarpet/pseuds/bowlingalleycarpet
Summary: Merlin is tasked with returning an inebriated king to his chambers.
Relationships: Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Gwen/Merlin (Merlin), Gwen/Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 214





	Three's always better than two, isn't that right, Merlin?

In hindsight, it was Merlin’s own fault. He had brought this upon himself when had challenged the king to a drinking game. Well, it had been Gwaine’s idea, but Merlin had followed through with it, knowing he could secure the victory with a little help of a spell. At the time, he had not thought to consider the repercussions. 

“We made it, sire,” Merlin stated, more than a bit proud. The long walk from the lower town to the citadel had been a breeze compared to the endless amount of stairs and turns they had just faced. Arthur had become very chatty in his drunken state and an inebriated king apparently wasn’t able to move mouth and feet at the same time.

Arthur turned in his grip to face him, wound his arms tightly around his servant's body and rubbed his cheek against Merlin’s, his eyes falling closed.

“Arthur,” was the king’s only response, seemingly content to fall asleep leaning on him.

“What?”

“My name... is Arthur.”

“Yes, I’m aware,” Merlin answered, bemused.

“Well, then use it.”

“Right. Arthur.” The king let out a low hum, rubbed his cheek against his in a nod and clung even more tightly to him, digging his fingers into Merlin’s jacket. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” Arthur gave no indication that he’d heard him.

“Merlin.”

The low, gravelly voice made him feel lightheaded himself. Heat shot into his face. He forced his voice to remain light and chipper.

“Yes, Arthur?”

“Thank you.” The king sounded incredibly pleased.

“Wow! We should really get you drunk more often if that means you’ll finally show me some gratitude.” ~~~~

Arthur only hummed again in response.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me!” He tapped Arthur’s back.

“I’m not, I’m just comfortable.” To his credit, he sounded more sober than he had in the past hour. Which did nothing to quench Merlin’s growing, albeit conflicted, enjoyment of his current predicament. He forced himself into action.

“Arthur, we need to be quiet inside, the queen is probably sleeping already.”

“Yes, sire!” He exclaimed cheerfully, almost shouting in his ear. Merlin shushed him immediately.

“Sorry,” Arthur mumbled, swaying forward a little.

 _Great_. This was going wonderfully.

*

Merlin opened the door only to reveal Gwen sitting by the fireplace, reading.

“My lady. You’re still up?”

“Merlin, what have I told you about how to address me in private?” Her tone was fond as she walked over to greet them.

“I told him.” Arthur immediately latched onto Gwen and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Good evening, my stunningly beautiful queen,” he crooned. “May I have this dance?” He fumbled for her hands but was unsuccessful for they were currently busy holding him upright.

Gwen failed to supress a laugh. “Oh dear. I think you belong in bed, love.”

“I think _you_ belong in bed.” Arthur swayed dangerously forward, and Merlin caught him before he could crush his wife.

“I’ll take it from here.”

Gwen seemed incredibly grateful for his assistance. “Thank you, Merlin.” She stepped close to peck him on the cheek.

“Yes, thank you, Merlin,” Arthur parroted, his voice low, and did the same on the other side.

 _Great_. Just dandy. He was never getting Arthur drunk again. _Ever_.  
  
  
Merlin’s heart was beating wildly, and he could feel himself blushing furiously at being sandwiched between king and queen. He was painfully aware of the spot Arthur’s lips had just touched, his warm breath still lingering on his face, making his skin tingle all over.

Gwen’s affection he was used to. Her hands holding onto his arms or his waist as she stood on tiptoes to press lingering kisses to his cheek were as familiar as her arms thrown around his neck, chin tucked into his shoulder, and the sweet smell of her hair in his nose as her body pressed flush against his, a pleasant warmth filling his chest.

Arthur’s current show of affection for him, however, was downright bizarre in comparison. The man was so emotionally constipated, Merlin was truly surprised at how easily a few drinks had clouded his senses and made him lose control.

As if to prove his point, he felt Arthur’s hand brush past his backside, seemingly trying to find a way under his tunic. Merlin’s heart was hammering against his ribcage.

He shot a quick, cautious glance at Gwen, who was only watching them bemusedly, and then to Arthur whose eyes were flitting back and forth between him and Gwen, his lips slowly tugging into a smile. Merlin decided to interrupt his thoughts before the situation could get any more out of hand.

“Alright, come on, I’ll take you to bed.” He regretted his words the second they were out of his mouth.

“I’ll take _you both_ to bed!” Arthur declared loudly, waving his arm around in a grand gesture, his cheeky grin softened by the alcohol in his veins.

 _Oh god_ , this was getting worse by the minute.

All the thoughts Merlin had not dared to entertain, that he had so desperately tried to supress all evening were unleashed this instant. He had deliberately not taken note of the way Arthur’s hair stuck up in the front, like it did in the morning, of how godlike he looked in his white tunic, the laces undone, showing more than a bit of skin, especially when it had slipped sideways as Arthur had stumbled on the stairs, the muscled shoulder right in front of Merlin’s face, close enough to touch with his lips (or even graze with his teeth), the smell of him and the warmth of Arthur’s body pressed alongside his own. He had thanked the gods that he was sober, otherwise he would have doubted the strength of his restraint, but Arthur’s carefree, unadulterated grin at his insinuation had now undone him. ~~~~

He mentally slapped himself out of his daze and risked another look at Gwen, who only pressed her lips together to supress a laugh, then turned away to hide it.

 _Like she knew something he didn’t.  
  
  
_ Panic shot up his spine and sobered him up immediately. Had she seen something in his reaction? Could she know? He tried to calm himself. She couldn’t have noticed, he rationalized, he was standing with his back to her. And besides, that look might as well have been meant for Arthur, who in his drunken state was apparently out of his mind. And who had now plopped down onto the bed, legs hanging off the edge, regarding Merlin with raised eyebrows, apparently expecting something.

Merlin gaped at him.

“What are you waiting for? Undress me!”

Merlin barely realized that his brain stopped working for a second before he snapped out of it and hurriedly crouched down to unlace Arthur’s boots. His face flushed at the thoughts running through his head. It was his job to help the king undress. Nothing more. He had done it a hundred times before. Thousands even. It was his job. His duty. _Oh god_ , this wasn’t helping.

Arthur had pushed himself up on his elbows to watch. Merlin worked the laces even faster and pulled the boots off one by one.

“Good. Now yours.”

Merlin stared up at him. The cheeky grin was back.

 _Oh, Arthur was going to pay for this.  
  
  
_ “I’m leaving before you say or do anything else you’ll regret in the morning.” He quickly got up from the floor.

“Regret? Why would I regr-”

“Goodnight, sire.”

With a short bow he turned around before Arthur could answer and bid good night to Gwen, who kissed him on the cheek once more, her lips and her hands lingering just a moment too long to be taken for a mere gesture of parting. She pressed another quick kiss to the corner of his mouth before she let him go. In apology, perhaps?

*

As he walked through the empty corridors of the castle, he vowed to wake Arthur extra early in the morning. And loudly!

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever published fanfic. Wrote this mostly for my own entertainment because I needed a dose of soft bi!Arthur.  
> Comments and criticism are always appreciated!


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